


Color Me

by reign (araxi)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Cute, Death, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Misunderstandings, Multi, Other, References to Harry Potter, Romance, cute stuff, reader is always gender neutral unless otherwise specified
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-02 17:05:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 7,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8675593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/araxi/pseuds/reign
Summary: Sometimes it's hard for you to process this whole "Overwatch" thing.Otherwise known as, overwatch drabbles by moi.





	1. In My Living Room?

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is gejnji.tumblr.com

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're not sure how he got into your apartment, or why he's buck naked, but you're not exactly complaining.

You know how sometimes you get home from work and you think, “God, I need a break?” But you don’t get one because life is weird?

This was one such day.

You got home from work, and dropped your backpack on the closest chair, thinking about how heavy it was and dear god, _why do I carry around so much stuff?_

And then, you looked up.

“Hi.”

You blinked, unsure of what was going on, if this was real or if your overtired brain was trying to cheer you up.

“Um,” you tried to keep your eyes up, “why are you naked in my living room?”

He smiled, “It’s actually a long story that I can’t get into now because I might be hunted by an assassin.”

You thought your brain might of been mush, “What? You know what, before we do anything, you need some pants.”

He smirks, and dear god did you love when his face did that, “Why? Am I distracting you?”

You can feel your cheeks heat up, “I - you - just get some pants on, please.”

Heading to your bedroom, you think about how weird this situation was. And the fact that you completely went along with it was worse. You just accecpted the fact that there was a naked man in your living room, and he might be chased by an assassin. You go to your dresser and pull out a pair of sweats - along with a tank top, that an ex-boyfriend had left behind, before putting them on the bed, “There’s some clothes on the bed for you.”

He comes into the room, smiling, “Thanks, cariño.”

You blush, not really understanding what he had said, but still thinking it something nice, “Yeah.”

You wait until he’s dressed to corner him, ready for an interrogation.

“Who are you?” You ask, your gaze burning, hands on your hips.

He smiles, not fazed at all by your change in attitude, “Gabriel Reyes, and you?”

You’re thrown off a bit, “Y/N. Why were you naked?”

“Clothes had a tracker on them, wasn’t sure where, so I ditched it,” everything he says is nonchalant, as if he’s talking about something other than being tracked by an assassin.

“Why did you end up in _my_ apartment?”

He laughs, “I jumped through the first open window, hon, I didn’t choose you.”

Your anger dissapates, but only slightly, “So, what you’re saying is -”

He kisses you. It’s not unwelcome, but it’s out of nowhere and you freeze up, not sure what to do.

When he lets go, he smirks, “Needed to shut you up, you looked like you were about to go off.”

This time you smirk, finally knowing what to say, “I think I might go off again, Gabe.”

He seems a little shocked at your use of his first name, but recovers quickly, the smirk never leaving his mouth, “I better shut you up again.”


	2. Where Are Your Clothes, Jack?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently when Jack Morrison is naked, his first instinct is to go to your room.

Honestly, you weren’t sure what was going on, or how you had gotten there.

You had been with the new Overwatch for two months now. You weren’t an original member, but Jack - Soldier 76 - found you when you were beating up a group of assholes who thought it was okay to try and mug a 12 year old.

You want to say he saw something in you that no one had ever seen before, but in all honesty, he wasn’t the first.

He was, by far, the most passionate. The way he talked about protecting people, about keeping the world safe, and a better place, made you realize that you wanted that too.

So, you joined Overwatch.

You were a great soldier, taking orders and fufilling them as quick as you could, trying to keep up the impression that you were a great, steady soldier who took orders well.

And then, Jack started to ignore you. Blatantly, too. Not in a subtle way, no. When you tried talking to Jack he would pretend you weren’t there, or turn around and talk to someone else, or just walk away.

And one point you were convinced you were invisible. You weren’t. (You learned that the hard way when you tried to steal one of Lena’s cookies, and she slapped your hand and told you to back off.)

And now you’re here, in your Overwatch issued housing unit, staring at a very naked Jack Morrison who just stood there.

“Um, why are you naked in my living room?”

He coughs, “No reason.”

You laugh, bitterly, “So, you’re talking to me now.” He stays silent and looks away. You roll your eyes, he was so hard to understand.

“So, you’re naked in my living room for fun?”

His face becomes a dark shade of red, “I - you know that’s not what I mean, soldier.”

You chuckle, before walking over to the couch and sitting down. Jack just stays where he is, behind the couch, still naked.

“I’ll give you some clothes if you promise you’ll talk to me.”

He sighs, “Yes.”

You point out your room, and tell him the location of some men’s clothes you think might fit him.

When he comes out, he softly asks, “Where’d you get these clothes?”

You wanna tell him the truth, wanna tell him how you use them as pajamas and they were on sale at Target, but you can’t bring yourself to vocalize that thought and instead go with, “My ex.”

It wasn’t a total lie, as when you had gotten the clothes you were still with your ex.

He chuckles, “Didn’t know you were dating someone.”

You turn towards him, “You wouldn’t know anything about me, seeing as you’ve completely ignored my existence for the past two weeks.”

He looks away, seemingly hurt by the observation, “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Lie.”

“I - was mad at you.”

“Try again.”

“I don’t want to be around you.”

You look at him closely, “You have a tell, Jack. Whenever you lie, you cross your fingers.”

He looks at his hand, realizing the truth in the statement.

“Tell me the truth, Jack.”

He sighs, before mumbling something that you can’t understand.

“What?”

“I maybe, sort of, kinda like you. A lot.” You’re taken aback by the statement, unsure of how to respond.

Jack continues, “I thought that maybe if I wasn’t around you, the thought would go away, but it hasn’t. Every time I see you, I want to be around you,” his voice is getting stronger, “And it’s not appropriate for me to like a subordinate, it’s unprofessional and wrong, but, Jesus, every time I see you smile I want to kiss you.”

You laugh, honest to god laugh, “God, Jack, you’re such a tight ass.”

“I - what?”

You smile at him, “Screw appropriate, Jack.”

You kiss him, smiling into it. Seconds pass before Jack starts to kiss you back. It's calm and sweet and dear god is he a good kisser. You wonder how many people he kissed to get this good.

When you pull away you smile for a moment, before frowning, "Wait, why were you naked in my living room again?"

He chuckles, "Kind of a long story."

You roll your eyes, "Okay, but I think I deserve an explanation after finding you _naked_ in my living room."


	3. The Closet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and McCree get stuck in a closet together, and it gets a little awkward.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” You whisper, backtracking with McCree. This was supposed to be a silent mission, get the intel and get out.

But apparently the guaard timetables Solider 76 had given you were outdated. You made a note to chew him out for it later.

McCree pulled you through a doorway, before silently closing the door.

You turned around, but you had nowhere to go.

“A closet?” You whispered, a little angrily, because are you kidding me?

He shrugs, but his shoulders hit a shelf, “Was the first open door I saw, darlin’.”

You sigh, but have to stop halfway through when you hear footsteps coming down the hall. McCree stayed silent, not daring to move.

When the sound of the footsteps gets quieter, you finish your sigh, “Good. Let’s get out of here.”

You try to jostle the handle, but it’s stuck. You jostle it again, this time harder, and again, nothing.

It isn’t until you hear someone come up, that you stop.

“You didn’t notice the sign that said to leave the door open?” The Talon opretive says, a little humor in his voice.

You laugh, it’s forced but it seems to convice the man on the other side, “Sorry, I was a little distracted.” It’s in this moment that McCree decides to move, hitting his head on a shelf and cursing under his breath.

“I was about to ask with what, but I’m pretty sure I get the picture now.”

You can feel your cheeks heat up, “I - we -”

McCree decides to step in, “Hey pal,” his southern drawl is gone, replaced by a mid-western accent matching that of the man on the other side of the door, “could you slide the key under the door? I know it’s a little weird but I would really like to finish what we started here.”

The man laughs, “Sure thing, I get it. Me and my boyfriend sneak around all the time. You guys can continue what you started, I should be back in like ten minutes.”

You almost punch McCree, “You asshole! Now he think’s we’re - he - and - he expects us to be, you know, when he comes back!”

He rolls his eyes, “Darlin’, now he doesn’t have to see our faces.”

“Oh.”

He picks you up, suddenly, and has you on his hips, your legs attaching around his waist.

“What are you -”

“Look, honey, if we want to make this believable, we have to make it believable.”

He moans, and you honestly had never heard a dirtier sound. You get the gist of what he was doing.

Making it _believable_.

You pick up your hips from the door, and hit them back, lightly, making the door jostle, but giving the impression that you were being hit into a door. Giving the impression that you and Jesse were having sex. You continue hitting the door, and moan a few times and breathe out his name and you can see his eyes close in an effort to do something. You guys don’t stop when you see a small golden key slide under the door, but wait another minute until you’re sure that the agent is gone before you jump off of McCree, and lean over to get the key. You shimmy around, making it so that your ass was up against his crotch.

His dick was half hard. You don't blame him though, as you were, in fact, a little turned on by the sounds McCree himself was making. You still have to pick up the key, though, and drop into a squat to grab the key. When you stand up, you realize that his dick was _harder_

You blush, pretending that you don’t notice it, and open the door.

It’s not until the two of you make it to the extraction point that McCree talks, “We should do that for real one time.”


	4. 7 Minutes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Playing seven minutes in heaven with your co-workers is bad. Playing seven minutes in heave with your boss is worse.

Honestly, playing seven minutes in heaven was the stupidest idea anyone had had in a while. The whole team - meaning everyone - was sat in the living room of the Overwatch complex, drinking beers and having a Jolly time.

Until Lena decided everyone was going to play seven minutes in heaven.

You were a little drunk, and almost everyone on the team was hot, so, why not?

As soon as everyone (sans Winston, who had declaired that it was not appropriate for him to be a part of this, and Jack, who said he had some work to discuss with a red tint to his cheeks) was seated in a circle, Lena tossed an empty beer bottle to you first, with a wink.

“Y/N goes first.”

You almost choked.

“Oh - um, I guess. Okay.” And you spun the bottle, little droplets of leftover beer flying a little. You closed your eyes as it slowed down, not wanting to see who it landed on.

“Gabe!” You heard Lena declare, and once again, you almost choked.

Gabriel Reyes, _your boss_ , was going to be locked in a closet with you for seven minutes.

Lena got both of you up and pushed the two of you into a closet before locking it.

“I’ve got a timer set!” And she was gone.

You coughed, “So, those covert missions, am I right?”

Gabe laughed, “Yeah.”

Awkward silence filled the room. You needed to say something, because goodness was this silence crushing you.

“How weird is it that we got locked in together? I mean, you’re my boss so this is a little strange right?”

Apparently those were the wrong words.

“Weird?” He asked, edging closer, one of his hands coming to rest on the wall right beside your head, “In what way possible is this weird?” He was now inches from your face and you could smell his cologne and his breath and dear god, this was worse than the silence.

“I - um - I - uh,” You could not think of anything to say, your mind was absolutely, completely, blank, “You - uh - you’re really close.”

He laughs, his nose touching yours, “Good observation.”

You try to move away, trying to diffuse the  situation.

Your lips end up on his.

Not even in a kissing way, your lips just end up on his.

He decides to kiss you. It’s not slow and gentle, but its not hard and rough either. It’s a happy medium. And you find yourself kissing him back. You bit his bottom lip lightly, and he groans lightly into your mouth.

He lets go of your mouth, and starts on your neck. Lightly at first, but soon it becomes harsher. You moan quietly, your hand traveling down his chest.

He pulls away suddenly, winking and smirking his Gabriel Reyes smirk. You reach out, trying to touch him again, but he moves towards the door.

“Times up!” She unlocks the door, and Gabe leaves, still smirking his stupid smirk.

Lena lags behind, “You okay?”

You can hear Gabe laugh from down the hall.


	5. Best Friends Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why is it that your best friends brother was so goddamn attractive?

“What are you doing?”

You turned around, almost dropping the water glass you were holding, “Holy - Genji! What are you doing?”

He laughs, before jumping up to sit on the counter, “I asked first.”

You sigh, “I was thirsty, Hanzo was snoring. Here I am. What about you?”

Hanzo Shimada was your best friend. Your parents were powerful people, leading them and the Shimada’s to form a tentative partnership. They never expected their children - you and Hanzo - to get along so well. But here you were, sleeping over his house after the both of you had spent the day studying.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he shrugs, and grabs an apple on the counter, “so, how was your day with Hanzo?”

“He’s as grumpy as ever, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you laugh, “but, uh, it was fine. Your parents came to watch for, like, a weird amount of time, but whatever.”

Genji shrugs, “They’re always weird.”

You grab a snack out of the cabinet, not really looking at what it is before ripping it open.

“Thought you didn’t like dried green beans?” Genji’s smirk returns. You look down at your snack, before grumbling.

“Damn it,” you sigh, “I guess I have to eat it.”

Genji hops off of the counter, and walks over, “I could eat those.”

You look him up and down, before slowly crossing your arms over your chest, “What do you want?”

He moves closer, his arms resting on either side of you, trapping you against the counter. You look him up and down again, your eyes becoming a squint.

He shrugs, “Just a small kiss. A peck, right here.” He points to the corner of his mouth.

You laugh, of course that was what he wanted. Despite the fact that you were best friends with his brother, Genji had tried - relentlessly - to get with you,

“That’s it?” Your arms unfold, and you put them on his shoulders, clasping your hands behind his neck.

“That’s it,” he smiles, before pointing to his mouth again, “right here.”

You do it, kissing him so lightly that you’re not even sure if your lips touched.

“That was nothing!”

“You asked for a peck,” your voice is innocent enough, but your smirk gives you away.

“A peck?” he whispers, his forehead touching yours, “You sure that’s enough?”

You can feel his breath on your face, and it smells like toothpaste. You don’t mind.

“I think that’s your call,” you say, bringing your face closer to his. Your eyes are on his lips for a moment, before they move to his eyes.

He pushed forwards, kissing you intensely,  your arms around his neck tighten, pulling his closer, and playing with the tufts of green hair at the base of his neck.

You hold him close, and he does the same with you.

“Nope.”

You pull away from Genji and look around him, seeing Hanzo standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Um, I, uh,” you can’t form words.

“Not gonna deal with this,” Hanzo walks away, his hands up, “and if you guys are going to do that at least do it somewhere our parents can’t see.”

You flush thinking of Genji’s parents finding you pushed up against the counter, your hair all over the place, and their son’s lips on your neck.


	6. Roommates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're so glad that your roommate ad doesn't result in you getting murdered.

You were desperate. If you weren’t, it wouldn’t have come to this.

Your job wasn’t paying the bills, and last night the landlord had turned off your heat. In the middle of winter. You needed a roommate, badly. (You had coerced your landlord into giving you another month of heat because you were searching for a roommate).

So, despite every part of you saying not to, you sent out an ad on a craigslist-like site, and hoped to god whoever responded wasn’t a creep.

Three people responded, one of which was a known sex offender (no thanks), another didn’t have a job (another no), and the third seemed like a pretty average guy.

You checked his facebook, and only found a page without any details or pictures. And while you were still wary, you asked him to come for an interview.

You were currently waiting in your living room, having placed out snacks and beverages.

When he knocked at the door, you rushed over, smoothed your shirt, and opened it. And your jaw almost fell to the floor.

He was gorgeous. And in all honestly, scary. He was so hot, dear god, you could look at him for hours.

“Hi, this is apartment 203, right?” He asked, after a moment of silence.

You recovered, “Yes, sorry. I half expected a serial killer to show up at my doorstep.”

He laughs, “I get that. Sorry I’m not what you expected.”

“Thank god you’re not what I expected,” you said, before sitting down on the couch, motioning for him to take a seat as well.

“So, as you already know, I am Gabriel Reyes. I have a very steady and large income so you don’t have to worry too much about rent, but I will be gone a good portion of the time,” he explained, “I mean, I do work for the government, and -”

You interrupted him, “Sorry to stop you, but where do you work in the government?”

“I’m not at liberty to say,” he says.

“Oh.”

He shrugs, “As I was saying, I will be gone for a lot of the time and I just need someone to take shop while I’m gone.”

“Well,” he had already covered most of the points you were going to ask about, “I guess I will think about it. Thanks so much for coming in.”

He doesn’t get up though, “What, you aren’t going to ask me about my likes and dislikes, or my favorite TV show?”

“Didn’t think that was necessary if you’re going to be gone all the time.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he positions himself so he can be more comfortable on the couch, “I didn’t say all the time, I just said a lot of the time. We are going to be roommates after all.”

“You don’t know that,” you say, giving him a confused look.

He laughs, “Oh, yes I do. I was the only person who replied to your ad with a good income and without a history of assault. So, yeah, I’m going to be your new roommate.”

You laughed, “You’re good.”

He shrugs, “So I’ve been told. But seriously, what do you like?”

So, you guys play twenty questions and get to know one another. Gabe likes spicy food and action movies and karoke (and even though you promised not to laugh, you do anyways, imagining Gabriel Reyes standing on a stage, drunk and singing along to some Journey song at the top of his lungs). He goes commando, and has a licence to carry a weapon, and “doesn’t” like Carly Rae Jepson songs (you know better, because everyone likes Carly Rae Jepson songs).

And by the time he’s supposed to leave, it’s dark and you’re not sure you feel comfortable with him walking home in the dark. While yes, he is a large and imposing man and could probably knock out anyone who came near him without consent, you don’t feel comfortable with anyone walking home alone at ten in the evening.

“You could stay the night,” you suggest, holding his arm to keep him from leaving your apartment.

“It’s only are first date,” he says, a hint of teasing in his voice, “I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself.”

Your gaze stays steely, of course you know that, “I just don’t feel comfortable. It’s pitch black and the street lamps don’t work and, please, for me?”

He rolls his eyes, “Fine.”

You smile, before hugging him, “See, roomie, you already know that the best way of dealing with me is to just do whatever I want you to!”

He wraps his arms around you, and laughs into the hug. You can feel your heart pounding at the intimacy of the touch and at the sound of his laughter.

_Uh oh._


	7. Romeo and Juliet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse McCree was an annoying son of a bitch who was surprisingly an amazing actor.  
> (college au)

“Cut!” The director called out, shaking his head, “You two are so awkward together! This is a romance, you need to up the romance.” He rubs his chin for a moment, before continuing, “You two need to spend the weekend together. Get to know each other, both as yourselves and as your characters.”

You look at your opposite, Jesse McCree, before turning back to the director, “Are you sure that’s the best idea-”

He dismisses you, “Of course it is. You two are going to spend the weekend together and that’s final.”

You sigh, watching your director leave.

Jesse laughs, “Had somewhere to be?”

You sigh, and turn to him, “I was supposed to head home for the weekend, but guess I’ll have to cancel on my mom. Again.”

You take out your phone, and start to text your mother, but Jesse grabs the phone out of your hand before you can continue.

“What the hell, Jesse?” You ask, trying to grab the phone out of his hand, but he reaches behind him, making sure you can’t touch it.

“I’m comin’ over your house this weekend, honey,” he says, still keeping the phone out of your reach, “you can tell yer ma tha’ I’m yer boyfriend.”

You laugh, before crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “No, that is not happening. No way on heaven and earth will I tell my mother that we are dating. Nuh-uh. Not going to happen.”

Jesse smiles, “Sorry, darlin’, I a'ready sent yer ma a text.”

The cynical smile you had falls off of your face, and you grab your phone out of Jesse’s hand and look at the conversation him and your mother had been having.

> **From Mom:** You still coming this weekend?
> 
> **To Mom:** sure am. bringing my boyfriend too haha. he really wants to meet you.
> 
> **From Mom:** Boyfriend! You never told me about this!
> 
> **From Mom:** I’m so excited! I’ll set up an extra table setting for him!
> 
> **From Mom:** What does he look like?
> 
> **To Mom:** [Picture Sent]

You almost murdered Jesse, right then and there. With the picture he sent, you had not choice but to bring him to your mothers house. You couldn’t bring a different friend, or Jesus, anyone else. You were now obliged to take him home to meet your mother while she was under the assumption that he was your boyfriend. Oh, boy.

“Guess I’m comin’ over yer house this weekend, babe,” he said, his tone teasing. He left you on the stage, and walked out of the auditorium.

On Saturday, Jesse picks you up in his station wagon (you half expected him to come in with a horse drawn carriage, seeing as he seemed to be an actual cowboy), and the two of you start the two and a half hour long (without traffic) drive to your mother’s house.

For the first half an hour you’re silent, listening to Jesse sing along to his stupid country music.

You half wanted to murder him, and half wanted to murder yourself.

Instead, you turned the volume down and started talking, “How did we meet? She’ll want to know.” You knew your mother well enough to know that she would leave no stone upturned concerning your relationship with Jesse. She would want to know absolutely everything.

He smiles, his eyes flickering to your for a moment before going back to the road, “We met how we met darlin’, during the play.”

You rolled your eyes, “First date?”

“We were practicin’ lines and decided to get dinner. It all just kind of continued after tha’.” You were surprised by the amount of thought he put into your fake relationship.

“Okay, what about our first kiss?”

He smiles, “On stage. Firs’ real kiss was on our second date. I walked you to yer dorm and kissed ya’ goodnight.”

“Have we had sex yet?” You ask, knowing exactly how nosey your mother was, and how much she wanted to know.”

He splutters for a moment, “I - we - _yes_.”

You blush, “Oh.” You were not expecting that. Not even for a moment.

“It was romantic, if that’s what yer wonderin’. At least, as romantic as a dorm can be. I used candles and soft music and we had a lot of fun,” he explains, and you wonder if he had actually thought about this, “We do it a lot, now’a’days.”

“You put a lot of thought into our sex life, cowboy,” you tell him, smirking a bit at the blush that crosses his face.

“I - _well_ \- I just _thought_ \- I mean - _I guess_ ,” he tries, and you can’t help but feel a little proud that you made smooth talking Jesse McCree stumble for words.

You reach a hand on his thigh and smile, “I’m just teasing, Jess. Take the next exit.”

So, the two of you continue on, light traffic allowing for the two of you to talk and spend time together and figure out the kinks of your relationship.

And your hand stays on his thigh.


	8. Big Brother, Oh My

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo is the bane of your existance. A very cute bane, but a bane nonetheless.

You and Genji had known each other for years, had been best friends for most of those years. Despite the fact that you were closer in age to his brother, the two of you got along extremely well.

You and Genji’s brother - Hanzo - though, were not very good together. You thought he was rude, and abrasive, and disgustingly attractive, and mean. He had said on many occasions that you were too loud, and you were likely to get murdered because of your kindness.

Genji told you to ignore him, but it was hard when Hanzo had a face like that and pushed every goddamn button.

“What are you doing here?”

You flung up, originally laying on the ground. Your eyes were now open wide, and you stared at the man at the door. He was leaning against the door’s frame, sizing you up.

“I was _meditating_ ,” you lied, crossing your arms over your chest. You were 100% not meditating, but you couldn’t tell Hanzo that you were taking a nap in the meditation room. He would have an absolute freak out.

He laughs, “Looked like it.”

You scowl, “I was. No need to be rude, Hanzo.”

You can see him roll his eyes as he enters the room, moving to sit next to you, crossing his legs and sitting down gracefully. He brings his hands to his lap and close his eyes.

You cock your head to the side, “What are you doing?”

“Meditating,” he says, before opening one of his eyes to look at you, “I’m following your example.”

He smiles at your shocked expression, before closing his eyes and seemingly mediating.

You stare at him for a few moments, before deciding to talk to him again, “Why are you being nice to me?”

He sighs, and opens both of his eyes this time, “Why shouldn’t I be?”

Your face crinkles in confusion, “You know I wasn’t meditating.”

“Yes,” he says.

“Why aren’t you giving me shit for, I don’t know, misusing the mediation area?”

“Because you look cute when you sleep,” he explains, still as calm as ever.

Your whole body stops. And your brain keeps chanting, “HE THINKS YOU’RE CUTE!” over and over again.

“What?”

He smiles at your reaction, “You heard what I said. You may be annoyingly kind and optimistic, but that doesn’t make you any less attractive. My dragon has been trying to get me to mate with you for a long time.”

You are frozen, again. He thinks you’re attractive and he thinks you’re attractive and _he thinks you’re attractive_.

You don’t know what pushed you to do it, but you reach out and grab his face and kiss him.

He doesn’t pull away like you expect him to. Instead, he pulls you closer, dragging you so you were now on his lap. Your arms wrap around his neck, one of your hands tangling in his hair. His hands are on your hips, keeping you close to him. Your lips are on his feverishly, and when he pokes his tongue out, you accept it without a second thought. You end up sucking lightly on his lower lip, and he lets out the most attractive grunt you have ever heard in your entire life.

You need air, but dear god you don’t want to pull away.

He smiles when you do, a charming smile that makes you want to kiss him again, but you’re out of breath and need a moment to collect yourself.

“Wow,” you say, quietly, your arms still around his neck.

“Yeah,” he’s breathless, much like you, and you feel a little bit of pride swell in your chest - you can’t believe you’re the one who does this to him.

You groan after a moment, “What am I going to tell Genji?”

“The truth?” Hanzo offers, and you let out a short laugh.

“And how will that go? ‘Hey, Genji, so you know how I was sleeping over your house? Well, while you were asleep me and your hot brother kind of made out?’” You laugh, imagining Genji’s reaction (which, in your mind, involved a lot of yelling about his distaste for the situation.)

Hanzo smirks, before kissing your neck, “You think I’m hot?”


	9. Morning, Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Lucio have been friends forever, and you wake up in the same bed after a long night of talking.

Lucio was staring at you.

“Morning,” you said, your voice still thick with sleep. You smiled at your best friend, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“Morning,” he replied, his voice low in both volume and pitch. You always forgot how amazing he sounded first thing in the morning. The two of you just laid there for a few moments, staring at each other, your legs still tangled and your brains just coming out of the fog of sleep.

“How long’ve you been awake?” You asked, moving your arm so it was under your head.

Lucio smiled, “Not too long. Got to watch you sleeping though, that was an experience.”

You laughed, pushing him lightly with your free hand, “Shut up.”

“Oh, you were drooling and everything. And you had snot -”

“You’re gross!” You interrupted him, but he just continued on as if you hadn’t even said anything.

“- all over your face and you were talking in your sleep. It wasn’t even sexy talking! All you talked about was taxes and briefcases and adult stuff.”

You laughed again, “You’re such a dick!”

“I feel bad for whoever has to wake up to that.”

 _You did_. Lucio was a friend, you always told yourself. He was nothing more than a good friend who cared about you and wanted to hug you and _nothing more_.

You knew you would regret it, “Well, you did.”

He paused for a moment, his eyes flashing with a familiarity that you couldn’t place, “Yeah. I’m a lucky guy.”

The two of you were still in bed, still so close together, but this was different. The million times you had done it before were platonic and nothing more, but now was a different feeling.

You took a chance and moved your face closer to his, only slightly, but enough to give him the choice of doing what he wanted, “What makes you say that?”

This time, it was him who moved in closer, “Anyone would be lucky to wake up next to you.”


	10. I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have a tendency to fall. Genji has a tendency to catch people who fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't been around for a while. But I will be posting things more often so! Get ready!

“Gosh _fucking_ darnit!” You were clumsy. Very much so. Your doctor had actually taken to worrying about your bone density you feel and broke bones so much.

As you fell, of course you went to protect your face, trying to make sure you didn’t break your nose - like last time. You were expecting scrapes on your forearms, but instead of getting scraped, you were caught.

Their arms were cool and strong and you were very much grateful for the fact that someone was quick enough to be able to catch you (how could someone be quick enough to catch you?).

When you looked up, you caught the eyes of what was most probably the most beautiful man to walk the earth.

The better part of your mind told you to thank him and walk away. But you rarely listened to the better part of your mind, and instead said, “Well, looks like I’ve fallen for you?”

It wasn’t even a good pick up line, and it was delivered like you were asking him a question. All in all, 0/10. You blushed, and tried to help yourself up so you could walk the fuck away.

He wouldn’t let you, “Very kind of you to say.”

He was blushing. He was blushing because you - you! - had said a bad pick up line after he had caught you when you were falling. He was blushing because of you!

You had barely noticed the mostly mechanical body parts - the arms, the legs, even some of his neck had metal plates - but when you did notice them as he helped you stand up, you didn’t mind. Cyborgs weren’t well liked in the world. But you didn’t mind - hell, you found it a little endearing.

When you were on your feet, he started to walk away, the blush still on his cheeks.

“Hey!” He turned around when you yelled, “Maybe I could get you something to drink after you saved my life?”

He chuckled, but started walking towards you once again, “I wouldn’t say that.”

You rolled you eyes, but a small smile stayed on your face while you did so, “So, how about that drink?”

He smiled, lightly, “Of course.”


	11. Fallin' for Ya!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Symmetra is cute and nice and pretty and when she saves you from a potential concussion you don't really know what to say.

You liked to think that you had everything under control. Yes, you couldn’t see over the mass of laundry you were carrying, and yes the stairs were hardwood and steep and yes, you were wearing a pair of your favorite fluffy socks, but you weren’t going to fall. (Of course, you were going to fall, but you didn’t need to remind yourself that.)

You slipped on the sixth step, your foot missing the step, throwing you off balance and ultimately making your huge basket of laundry fly, and you fall down the nine remaining steps.

You expected to fall down the nine remaining steps.

Instead, strong arms got a hold of you. Strong, soft, gentile arms held you, and you wanted so badly to relax in them.

In all honesty, it probably would have been better to just thank her and grab your laundry and leave. It would have been so much less awkward.

Instead, when you realized that it was Symmetra holding you, all rational thoughts flew out the window (down the stairs?) and you were left with the only thing you could think to say to the beautiful woman holding you; “Look’s like I’ve fallen for you, maybe you should do the same?”

And, _god_ , was that the worst thing that could have come out of your mouth because it was so _goddamned_ awkward and the blush that covered Satya’s face was so cute but you didn’t know what to do so you just left.

You just completely ignored the giant pile of dirty laundry and straight up bolted out of there.

Satya is left picking up your dirty laundry - not that she has any obligation to, she’s just a kind person - thinking about how adorable you were, with your pick up line and your sparkling eyes and your nice smile.


	12. Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelie finds out some bad news.
> 
> WARNING: You're dead in this one. Angst.

“I’m sorry _what_?”

Widowmaker - Amélie - stood there, one hand curled into a tight fist, the other holding onto her waist.

Even without her gear, wearing normal clothes and not carrying her rife, she was extremely intimidating.

“What do you mean, ‘they’re dead’?” Her voice was cold, but her eyes, oh her eyes held a terrifying fire that made the doctor shrink back. The passion that she held was something the doctor had never seen before; something that was chaotic and angry and passionate, oh so passionate.

The doctor waited a moment, collecting themselves, before explaining, “When they got shot in the last mission, the bullet was laced with batrachotoxin. The dose was huge - even you wouldn’t have been able to survive. They had a heart attack.”

She stood there for a moment, contemplating what she should do next. After a mission, Amélie would meet with you for a post-mission movie marathon but now, that was not an option.

“Does Reaper know?”

The doctor coughed, “No. Not yet. You were the first to be notified.”

She nodded, and left. Reyes had to know.

In her room, she allowed herself a moment of distraught. She would not allow herself to be weak - even for you.

She made no noise, but when she laid in her bed - a full bed with black covers and sheets that was in no way personalized - she cried, her vision blurry. But for only a moment, and then she was back; she was Widowmaker again.

“What is it, Widowmaker?” Reaper asked, his voice like it always was.

She did not hesitate to tell him, “They are dead. We are two once again.”

Reaper swore in Spanish, and she heard something break, “What-” she can hear his anger, emanating through the one word and yet, she cannot bring herself to care, “what do you mean, ‘they’re dead’?”

Amélie hangs up the phone.


	13. Trust (Or Lack Of)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You witness something you wish you hadn't.

“What the _fuck_ , Reyes!” You shouted, pulling away from the cloaked figure to your right, your arm hadn’t been patched up, but you didn’t want Reaper touching you anymore.

After you came back from your mission, you went straight to Reyes’s apartment, the flesh on your arm bloodied by a stray bullet from a new member of your recon team. Reaper had cleaned it up, but the wound still needed to be covered.

He tried to reach out to finish patching your wound, but you moved out of his grasp, “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

You flinch at his words–there was a time when the two of you told each other these things, “I- I’d think you would tell me something like this. We’re supposed to talk to each other. We used to talk to each other.”

“I used to be alive, Y/N. Things change.”

You want to fight with him, tell him that he’s still Gabriel Reyes, your commander, your best friend - but you don’t have it in you. That Gabe wouldn’t fight with you every chance he got. That Gabe would tell you these things. That Gabe would be _alive_.

Half of you feels guilty for thinking that, but the other half knows it’s true.

You sigh, and cover the wound on your arm with you opposite hand, “I don’t trust you anymore. I don’t know you anymore.”

Reaper–you can’t find it in yourself to call the thing in front of you by the same name of the man you used to know–clenches his fist, but beyond that shows no sign of your words affecting him.

“If you get this worked up over me killing someone-”

You scoff, “It was a child, Reaper. She–she was _defenseless_ and you knew that.”

He continues once you’re done, “-maybe you should leave.”

You take a step back, as if your entire body recoils at the words he spoke, “Fine.”

It isn’t, but you leave anyways, not grabbing any of the equipment that you had stored in the joint appartment, not letting your wound get stitched, not looking back.


	14. Misunderstanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, you need to be a bit clearer when you talk to your boyfriend. (And maybe he needs to be less paranoid.)

“Reyes,” you said, sitting on the bed, your hands on together on your lap, “we need to talk.”

He looked at you quickly, his face falling, “What? I thought things were going great?”

“They are? I don’t know what you mean?” His defensiveness was strange, you didn’t know why he would suddenly be upset.

He shook his head, “Don’t do that, Y/N! We - we’re so good together, you make me a better person! I - look you’re probably don’t think this is the time to say this but, I love you, _goddammit_. You can’t do this to me- to us!”

You frowned, “I love you, too, Gabe. What is this about?”

“I don’t want you to break up with me,” he clarified, his hands waving around his 

You snorted, “You fucking _idiot_ , Gabe!”

“What?”

“I wanted to know about your Harry Potter opinions, you dofus!” You laughed, a smile stretching across your entire face. You knew where he was coming from, of course, one too many people had started the breakup conversation with ‘we need to talk’. It was just funny that he thought you - the one person who loved everything about him - would want to break up with him. You were honestly sure if - when? - the two of you broke up he would be the one initiating it.

“Oh,” he said, not blushing but obviously embarrassed with his confession, “you can ignore everything I said. I didn’t mean it.”

You smirked, getting up off the bed to where he stood, “No, no, no. You said we’re good together! I make you a better person! You love me!”

Now he was flushing, trying to apologize, but stumbling along the way, “I- I only wanted to- uh- make sure y- you didn’t -”

“I love you, too, Gabe,” you said, kissing him on the cheek.

He smirked, “When you say things like that, I think you deserve something more than a kiss on the cheek.”

You laughed as he smothered you with kisses, tacking you onto the bed, and snuggling you while doing so. You tried pushing him off of you, but he wouldn’t budge, and kept repeating, “I love you,” over and over.

You completely forgot about Harry Potter.

(Later, when the two of you had your “I love you” dinner, Gabe will ask you what you wanted to know about his Harry Potter opinions.

“Do you think Dumbledore was a good person?” you said, smirking, knowing the difficulty of the question. That question had been asked for decades and opinions varied widely.

He laughed, “Oh, boy.”)


End file.
